Under it, I felt caged. Edgy. My headlights splayed across the road, the cabin dim, the high whine of my engine nipping at my ears as I sped the short distance from Matthew and Natalie’s house to Elizabeth’s. I didn’t matter if she was there or not. I’d wait. It was time. Time to bring all this shit out into the open. Grief fisted my chest, thrashed at my ribs as words that needed to be said, hurt that needed to be confessed. I knew Elizabeth had plenty of her own that needed to be shed. Impatience bounced my knee as I stopped at a red stoplight. Thirty seconds passed like an eternity. Finally, it changed, and I accelerated, surging through the thick evening traffic. I merged into the turn lane and made a left onto the narrow road. Trees rose up on every side. Lights glowed their warmth from the windows where families ate dinner within the walls of their houses, where they played and laughed and loved. This neighborhood had always felt that way. Safe. Peaceful. Like home. Twice I’d driven this road when I had been certain my heart would pound right out of my chest.
